


Mirror in the Sky

by kayhi



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Divorce, Drama, F/M, Harry Styles - Freeform, Love, Niall Horan - Freeform, Romance, Romantic Harry, Unfaithful Harry, internal dilemma, luna styles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-16 15:53:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13639446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayhi/pseuds/kayhi
Summary: There was no escaping it after all.It was on the cover of every magazine, the chatter of all celebrity talk shows and encapsulated all over Twitter in snippets no more than 140 characters in length.The very public and very messy divorce of Harry and Camille Styles.





	1. Sunday Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All,
> 
> Posting my first Harry Styles fic here. I know there isn't nearly as much content on here for non-slash readers, but if you like it, let me know! Still working out some of the formatting kinks. This story is also up on my tumblr, thebirdandthebee.
> 
> Thanks!

” _Millie my love,_ ” She grinned, hearing the voice as it entered their house. “My sun and my moon, my clouds and my stars.” Camille, newly Camille Turner-Styles, slipped out of bed where she was working on a compilation for the newest Tom Cruise film and ran a hand through her hair before padding out of the master bedroom. “Millie, my north, my south, my east, my west, my working week and my Sunday rest.” Her husband waxed poetically. She could picture him wrestling his boots off of his feet and sliding some of his rings off into the little bowl on the table by the front entry.

“Mr. Styles.” Camille grinned, watching as he pulled a beanie off of his head and tossed it to the ground on top of his shoes, which were tossed on the floor beside an alarming amount of crisp white shopping bags. “Must you always make such a racket when you arrive home?” She teased as he stepped forward. She looped her arms around his neck, rising to the tip of her toes.

“I’ll declare my love for you as I see fit.” He pressed his lips to hers softly.

“I see someone went shopping.” Her lips pulled up by the corner.

“I brought home treats.” He smiled widely, his hands sliding down to the small of her back.

“Oh, Harry.” She sighed, knowing it was nothing new.

“I couldn’t help it, my love, I popped over to the shops and when I think of you, I get inspired.” He insisted.

“Harold, you can’t buy out Gucci every time you’re feeling romantic.” She laughed as one of his hands slid further down and tucked itself into her back pocket.

“Yeah, who’s going to stop me?” He asked.

“Come on, I was just about to make some lunch,” She nipped at his side with her fingers. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished.” He insisted, pressing his lips to hers again.

“I’ve been editing all day, let me eat first.” She laughed, turning and making her way to the kitchen. “We got invited to a party.” She added as her husband’s long legs stalked behind her through the house.

“A party? Where?” Harry asked, grabbing an apple out of the bowl on the kitchen counter.

“At the Groucho. Mina and Tula are celebrating their engagement.” She added, touching the invitation on the white granite before moving to the fridge and grabbing all the parts to make a caesar salad. “Love, did you eat all the leftover chicken?” She asked, searching for the white container.

“In my defense, there wasn’t a lot leftover,” Harry began, looking at the invitation. “And I needed the protein last night before I ravished my wife.” He finished.

“That’s fine, I know we have shrimp.” She said, reaching into the fridge again.

“Prawns.” Harry supplied, grabbing a pen from the drawer under the counter and filling out the RSVP.

“Shrimp.” Camille countered again. There were some things she wasn’t going to bend on – dual citizen or not. “Not prawns.”

Harry grinned behind the invitation, happy to watch his wife move around the kitchen in her little denim shorts, which were short enough to give him a comfortable glimpse at the curve of her ass when she bent just far enough. He’d let the shrimp slide just this once. However, he wanted to get her attention before she dropped the prawns in the pan.

“Hey.” He called softly, causing her to turn at the waist. “C’mere.” He motioned his hand in the slightest, tipping his chin back. She rolled her eyes, setting down the tongs and turning the corner. She watched as he lazily slid his chair back, giving his lap a pat. She humored him, looping a leg on either side of him, bracing herself by grabbing the back of his char. “I wanna take you somewhere.” He said, leaning back in his seat.

“You wanna take me somewhere?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. “Did we not just get back from the Maldives? Was it a dream after all?” She laughed, running her hands down his chest. She wiggled softly as his hands slid from her sides further down her hips, unabashedly rocking into her gently.

“I want to go everywhere on earth with you,” He said, watching a little smile pull at the corner of her mouth yet again. “I want to do everything on this planet, then come home and start a new adventure.” He slid on of his hands from her hip to her tummy, placing it there gently. 

“’Feel like I’ve married the one baby-crazy man in London.” Camille sighed, giving her husband a pointed look.

“You’ve always known this about me.” He countered.

“What did we say, Styles?” She prompted, running a hand through his ear-length hair.

“Can’t be sure I know what you mean,” he tilted his head like a confused pup.

“We said two or three years – just us – then we’d work on expanding.” She reminded. “There’s still a lot I want to do before babies come.” She added.

“It’s such a long time to wait.” He sighed. “I already feel like I waited an eternity to get you.”

“Mr. Styles, I’d hate for you someone to break your bubble and let you know that a few months is hardly an eternity.” She rolled her eyes, giving his hair a little tug.

“A few months?” He narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “I chased you for years before you caved.” He said, outraged, tightening his grip on her sides as he could see the desire to flee in her eyes.

“Sorry my love, you had me long before you realized it.” She laughed, leaning forward and planting her lips on his. With a rock of her hips down into him, the little moan he bubbled out was distraction enough to wiggle her way back to her own two feet. “Besides, I hear Hong Kong is amazing this time of year.”

 

“Mumma, I don’t want to go to Caleb’s birthday party.” The little brunette frowned as Camille Styles buttoned up her five year old’s pink pea coat.

“Baby, why not? Caleb is your best friend! Don’t you want to help her celebrate? I’m sure it will be lots of fun.” The mother smiled, tucking her daughter’s curly hair behind one ear.

“I don’t wanna leave the house.” Luna mumbled, shoving her hands in her pockets as her mother helped her step into her little pink Wellington boots.

“You don’t want to leave the house? Should I build you a little shell and you can take your house with you just like a turtle?” Camille asked, grinning as her daughter’s frown deepened, looking more and more like her father.

“Dun’ wanna be a turtle.” She scowled. 

“Okay, so we’ll go to Caleb’s and if it’s no fun and you’d like to leave, we can go home straightaway and start working on your shell. How does that sound?” Camille supplied, standing to her full height, smoothing out her own black pea coat over a flattering, retro-style black dress - channeling her inner Peggy Olson.

“’Kay.” Luna sighed as her mother handed her a bright yellow gift bag filled with the latest Shopkins toys that Niall had insisted was Caleb’s absolute obsession as of late. “Is Daddy going to be there?” She asked as her mother held the door to her white Range Rover open, Camille watching carefully as her daughter snapped herself into her booster seat.

“I’m sure he will be.” Camille nodded, setting the gift bag on the seat next to the booster.

“Miss Daddy.” Luna mumbled, brushing her hair away from her face.

“I know, baby.” Camille kissed her daughter’s cheek.

Niall, Leni and Caleb Horan didn’t live too far from the Styles residence, a short drive across two neighborhoods revealed their three-story brick home with an idyllic black wrought iron fence. The March wind was unforgiving as it blew Luna’s hair into a little nest in the time it took to get from the car to the front door a mere sixty feet away.

“Come in, come in!” Niall Horan greeted with a loud, boisterous grin. “Cold as shite out.” He added, making Luna giggle and Camille roll her eyes. “Always good to see the lovely Styles women.” He added, kneeling down to give Luna a squeeze. “Mrs. Styles.” He addressed Camille with a big hug as her daughter promptly dropped her pink coat on the floor and ran into the house where she could hear other children laughing and being loud.

“Good to see you, Ni.” Camille smiled at the comfort of a familiar face.

“How you holdin’ up?” He asked, keeping one hand on Camille’s shoulder and scanning her face for signs of weariness.

“As to be expected.” She replied. “Trying to make things easy for Luna has been the hardest part.” She sighed. “Thankfully, our restraining order for paps was reinstated, so we can at least leave the house in peace.” She supplied, placing a hand on her stomach as she inhaled slowly.

“Wish there was more that I could do.” Niall sighed, his lips twisting into a frown.

“We’re doing just fine.” Camille assured. “Is… um… Is he-”

“He’s here already, loitering around the food table. Quite critically, too.” Niall replied, making Camille laugh. “Wondering why the cupcakes aren’t vegan and gluten-free.”

“Stop it.” Camille laughed, giving him a small shove. Niall took her coat and shuttled it to the guest room with the rest of the guests’ things.

Camille took in a deep breath, collecting herself before walking into the kitchen where some of the other mums had gathered, drinks in hand.

“Hi all.” Camille smiled, hoping she was pulling off ‘happy’ and ‘adjusted.’

There was nothing like walking into a room of people and instantly knowing they were just talking about you. Except, maybe, watching as their expressions turned into that of guilt and pity.

“Cami.” Leni Horan smiled, instantly stepping away from the group and wrapping her friend into a close hug. “How are you, bub?” She asked.

“In need of a glass of wine.” Camille responded, making her counterpart laugh.

“You heard the woman, someone get this lady some wine.” Leni announced, looping an arm around Camille’s shoulders and bringing her into the circle.

Mindless chatter for the most part. She knew that too many people were watching her, waiting for her to crumple and the feeling alone was suffocating. Camille hid behind her glass of wine, strategically sipping as she listened to Leni go on about little Caleb’s new ballet class and the horrors of watching her child doing cartwheels all over the floor in lieu of pirouettes. 

“I’m going to see what Luna is up to.” She excused herself. Leni brushed her elbow discreetly, giving her a look that could only mean, _want me to come?_ Camille shook her head softly. _I’ll be okay._

Walking through the dining room where an incredible spread of food and dessert was laid out, she padded softly to the family room where there were twelve or so children underfoot, watching enraptured as Niall led them in a game of Simon Says.

Quietly scanning the room, she didn’t see the person she was trying to discreetly find. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Mumma.” Luna came running over upon noticing her mother in the room.

“Hi baby, are you having fun?” She asked, crouching down as her daughter bounced excitedly on her feet. “Did you wanna go home and make your turtle shell?”

“Mummy, no.” Luna frowned, “Uncle Niall said we’re going to hit a piñata later.” She said excitedly. “And, and candy is in it.” She added.

“A piñata, that sounds like fun!” Camille smiled. “Did you want me to make you a plate to eat?” She asked. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I’m hungry. Can you get food because I dun’ wanna miss anything.” She looked back at the group, itching to join her friends again.

“Sure baby, let me go make you a plate.” Camille nodded. With a renewed sense of purpose, she made her way back to the dining room, picking up a ladybug themed plate and making her way through the buffet. 

“Can you believe they’ve got goat cheese at a five year old’s party?” Camille awarded herself for not freezing, but she certainly took her time replying.

“I suppose they thought it was necessary.” She said as she reached for more fruit on the tray in front of her, knowing Luna would go nuts when she saw the pile of blueberries on her plate.

“I bet at the end of the night, that goat cheese is still untouched.” After not hearing Harry’s voice for so long, it was hard to not miss the deep timbre of his drawl.

“Well maybe then you should take some and contribute.” Camille forced a smile. Harry nodded, not having much else to say, but picked at a cracker anyway.

“So my Mum was hoping to take Lolly out to tea next Sunday.” Harry said, following Camille back to the family room. “Would that be okay?” He asked. Camille had yet to make eye contact with her husband, and even as he was turned to her now, she couldn’t muster up the confidence to look away from her daughter as she played. “Millie?” He asked.

“Yeah of course, Luna would love that.” She nodded. “What time?”

“I’d probably pick her up around ten and then maybe she and I could do something afterward and then grab dinner. Have her back to you around five? Also, don’t let me forget I have a check for you.” He suggested. The roaring in Camille’s ears only got louder as she realized that her biggest fear was coming true.

She was getting divorced, discussing pick up and drop-off times for her child with her soon to be ex-husband and talking about child support.

All things she never wanted. Though, in complete honesty, she never wanted to get married to begin with.

“Millie?” Harry pressed, this time, placing his hand gently on her elbow. The contact shocked her out of her state and she, for the first time in weeks, made eye contact with the man she thought she’d grow old with.

“I’m sorry, I need a moment.” She said, thrusting the plate of food for Luna in his hands and turning away, walking briskly out of the room and down the hall. It had been a while, but she still remembered her way around the Horan house.

Bracing her elbows on the bathroom counter, Camille dropped her head, taking in a few deep breaths and trying to center herself again.

One, two, three, four, five – five, four, three, two, one.

She practiced her breathing exercise. She thought about Luna’s birth, spending time at the beach with her baby, one of the trips they took back to the U.S. to see Camille’s family. She gave her stomach another rub.

Finding herself once again, she remembered where she was, she remembered who else was at the party, and remembered, most importantly, that people were waiting for this kind of reaction from her.

Taking a long look in the mirror, she smoothed a hand down over her auburn hair, picked a stray pink thread from her black dress and exited the bathroom.

She couldn’t have a breakdown at a child’s birthday party.

Returning to the family room, she saw Harry and Luna sitting on a couch, Luna eating off of the plate on Harry’s lap as he stroked her hair.

“Hi baby.” Camille said, taking a seat on the other side of her daughter, doing her best to ignore her husband’s imploring gaze.

“Mumma, they have blueberries.” Luna said with a toothy grin, showing off the dimples she undoubtedly inherited from her father.

“Are they yummy?” Camille asked, crossing her legs, to which Luna nodded enthusiastically. Luna, like most kids, went through dedicated phases. This week was blueberries, last week was avocado. “Lollipop, do you want to see Nana on Sunday? She wants to take you to tea.” Camille asked, running a hand through her daughter’s hair.

“Yeah.” Luna nodded.

“Then spend some time with Daddy? Go out and get something to eat?” She said.

“You going to come with us, Mumma?” Luna asked, turning her big green eyes up to her mother, tugging painfully at Camille’s heart.

“Not this time baby, but next time!” Camille smiled, “it will be good to see Nana, won’t it?” She asked, to which Luna nodded again.

Camille did the best she could to focus on her daughter and the party for the next two hours. She was glad that Harry was respectful enough to give her the space she needed. There were too many people that she didn’t know at the party, too many parents that were hoping for a replay of the famous, public fight they got into on the night everything went so wrong.

There was no escaping it after all. 

It was on the cover of every magazine, the chatter of all celebrity talk shows and encapsulated all over twitter in snippets no more than 140 characters in length.

The very public and very messy divorce of Harry and Camille Styles.


	2. New Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who left kudos on the first chapter! If you're enjoying the story, let me know! This one is a bit longer :)

Camille Styles stood naked in front of the ceiling-to-floor mirror in the bedroom she once shared with her husband, criticizing what she saw. Maybe her hair wasn’t quite as shiny as it used to be. She never lost those last five pounds from Luna. Was her skin not as soft? Were the bags under her eyes always this prominent? She placed a hand on her tummy worriedly - a new habit of hers.

She turned around, looking over her shoulder. Her ass certainly wasn’t what it used to be.

“Mumma, I can’t find my pink hair bow.” She could hear her daughter padding down the hardwood floor in the hallway. Camille reached for her short, black bathrobe, tying it about her waist before Luna skidded to a stop in the doorway. “Mumma, it’s gone.” She stressed.

“It’s alright, my love, Mumma will find it.” She walked to the doorway, scooping her daughter up and placing her on her hip. The movement itself was as natural as breathing. After a thorough search through Luna’s big box of bows, she deemed it missing.

“You know what, baby? Do you think maybe you left it at Caleb’s birthday party last week?” Camille asked, remembering that she had clipped the neon pink bow to her daughter’s long, wavy hair.

“Oh.” Luna frowned.

“I’ll call Caleb’s Mum today and ask her, but how about in the meantime, you wear this beautiful one? It matches your sweater.” Camille held up a soft yellow bow that would contrast nicely in Luna’s dark hair.

“Okay.” The youngest Styles conceded, an easy and unusual victory for Camille. If there was one thing Luna was incredibly selective about, it was her accessories. Maybe she could sense her mother’s distress.

“Would you like to have a Mummy date today?” Camille asked, knowing her latest project for work could wait an afternoon.

“Can we go to the salon?” Luna asked. One thing Camille loved about raising her child in London was the fact that she had picked up on certain inflections her father and friends used. Like the world salon.

“We certainly can,” Camille agreed. “Will you help Mummy pick what colors to get?” Camille asked, walking back to her bedroom with little Luna following her faithfully.

“Yes,” Luna nodded, skipping along, following her mother right into her closet with her. “Mummy I’m going to pick your clothes.” She stated authoritatively. Camille laughed, taking a seat down on the ottoman that separated her side of the closet from the side that still housed a few items of Harry’s.

“Okay, what should Mummy wear today?” She asked, running a hand through her hair.

She watched as Luna paced in front the of expansive sections of clothes – so many of them ridiculous, designer gifts from Harry. A twelve-thousand dollar Balmain dress, Louboutins in every color and style, Gucci coats three racks deep. Camille saw her daughter pull down a pair of black, distressed skinny jeans with touches of hot pink accents along the rips and tears.

“These.” She said, walking over and depositing them in her mother’s lap. So far, a good choice. They weren’t pants she reached for every day, but she liked them. Luna returned to the selection, pulling down a white mohair sweater, a gift from Harry, and a pair of bright blue converse shoes.

“Wow, this is a great outfit, baby. Thank you!” Camille leaned forward, giving her daughter a sweet kiss. “Mummy will change into it right away and then we can head out and get some lunch.”

“You need a coat, Mumma, it’s cold.” Luna insisted, hopping over to her father’s side of the closet.

“Lolly, Mummy’s coats are over here.” Camille said, ushering to her side of the closet. “Those are Daddy’s coats.” She finished.

“This one.” Luna yanked down a black, to-the-knee peacoat. “You hav’ta wear this one, Mummy.” She insisted. Camille held the coat in her hands along with everything else her daughter picked out.

“Okay, baby.” She decided. “You go get your coat and shoes on, I’ll get dressed.” 

The coat still smelled like his cologne.

Twenty minutes later, the pair were buckled into the car, Camille bare-faced and in her daughter’s outfit of choice as they headed toward Nobu for edamame and bento boxes. Unfortunately no raw fish for Camille this time as her stomach had been bothering her, but surprisingly enough, her daughter loved salmon sushi.

She was thankful for the VIP valet parking, keeping photographers at bay as she unloaded Luna from her carseat.

_“Camille, when is the divorce finalized?”_

__

__

“What will happen to Luna?”

“Who is going to get custody?”

Camille’s willpower surprised even herself as she held onto her daughter steadfastly and entered the restaurant where she knew she’d be safe.

It wasn’t until she and Luna were seated at a table that she felt she could exhale.

“I don’t like them.” Her daughter said quietly.

“I don’t either, baby.” Camille smiled sadly. “But let’s not let them ruin our day.” She put on a brave face. “Now, what would you like for lunch?”

It turned out Camille wasn’t strong enough. She could see the way the hostesses and other patrons of the restaurant tossed her looks. She knew what they were thinking. It would all be confirmed in The Sun tomorrow.

_What’s she wearing?_

__

__

She’s gone off the deep end. 

Is she really in a place to be caring for her child?

That poor little girl.

As they left the restaurant after their meal, it took everything in her not to run and hide back at home again. But it seemed that was all she did anymore – run and hide.

But she needed to be brave for her baby. She chose this life, but Luna didn’t, and she needed to be a strong as possible for her.

“Don’t forget, you’re going to see Nana this weekend,” Camille reminded. “Are you excited?” She asked, swinging their joined hands back and forth between them as they walked to the nail salon.

“I love seeing Nana.” Luna parroted. 

“Well Nana loves seeing you, too.’ She encouraged. “Nana and Papa and Auntie Gem.” She listed off. “They all love you so much.”

“Do you think Nana will give me cookies?” Luna asked as Camille pushed open the doors.

“I’m certain she will.” Camille laughed. “Come on, let’s pick out some colors for Mummy.”

 

[][][]

 

_“Give ‘em a smile, ‘Mill.” Harry teased as he held Camille’s hand through the throng of paparazzi._

__

__

“Cut it out, Harry.” She rolled her eyes.

“Come on, I want to show everyone the most beautiful woman here is mine.” He drawled, giving her hand a squeeze. She laughed as he gave her a little tug, pulling her closer and slanting his mouth over hers in a way that was never like something Harry Styles would do with a previous flame.

“Really mate, you’re going to maul your woman in front of all of these cunts?” Niall asked loudly, tugging Camille away from her husband and into a hug.

“Hello, Ni.” Camille laughed. “Where is your beautiful wife?” She asked as the Irishman swung her around in a little dance, a hand on her lower back and the other clasped in hers.

“Don’t worry about her, it’s just you and me now.” He purred, causing Camille to toss her head back in laughter. 

“Okay, okay, let’s just all take a step back.” He gestured at the pair.

“Niall, I’m assuming you can tell me where the drinks are set up?” Camille asked as he twirled her out of his grasp.

“Back corner.” He pointed out. “Open bar!” He laughed.

“Okay, I’m going to grab a white wine.” Camille turned to her husband. “What can I get you, my love?”

“No, no, I’ll get drinks,” Harry insisted as Niall’s wife, Leni, approached. “You just try to keep your hands off of him.” 

“I’ll come with you.” She replied, taking his hand in hers.

“Even better.” He leaned down, pressing his mouth to hers. Harry let one hand settle on his wife’s lower back as they made their way through Groucho. The room was decorated impeccably to celebrate the happy couple, Mina and Tula. Yet to see the two leading ladies, Camille’s eyes grew wide at the chocolate fountain staged on the dessert table.

“Baby, chocolate.” She tugged on Harry’s belt loop.

“Oh dear.” Harry sighed, knowing his wife’s passion for the treat. “Looks like we’ll have to make a stop there later.” He said, looking down at Camille.

Posted at the bar as their drinks were being poured, they were pleased to finally spot the cause for celebration.

“Mina!” Camille squealed, hopping off the bar stool next to her husband and embracing the petite woman. “Congratulations my love!” She hugged her tightly.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Mina Davenport bubbled, squeezing Camille Styles in return. “I’m so happy you two are here!” She added before disappearing into the arms of Harry who held her snugly to him.

“Tula, congratulations.” Camille was so thrilled for the other half of the couple who had been agonizing over proposing to her girlfriend for months, which resulted in endless calls to Camille for planning.

“Holy moly, look at that thing.” Harry said, taking Mina’s hand in his and examining the flawless Harry Winston piece.

“Like you’re one to talk.” Mina blushed, referring to the four-carat diamond on Camille’s hand.

“It’s beautiful.” Camille said, still elated for their friends. “So when should we expect a save-the-date in the mail?” She asked, thanking Harry as he slid her white wine into her hand from behind the bar.

“We’re thinking just about a year from now, next August.” Tula said as Mina tucked herself into her fiancé’s side.

“My Mum and Dad have offered to host it at their place Kensington,” Mina added. “Their whole back of their property is covered in botanical gardens.”

“Well we can’t wait.” Camille smiled.

“A toast,” Harry raised his own drink. “May you two have all the happiness in the world and survive the wedding planning process.” He winked, making his wife roll her eyes.

“We’re so happy for you.” Camille squeezed both Mina and Tula once more before they let the guests of honor greet the rest of the party.

“I didn’t want to ask in front of the happy couple, but do you think Alfie and Quinn will be here?” Harry lowered his voice to speak of their mutual friends that were going through a divorce.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Camille raised her brows, “I hadn’t even thought of that. I mean, Quinny and Tula are so close…” She trailed off. “I can’t imagine that Quinn would miss her best friends engagement party.” She finished.

“That’s tough.” Harry exhaled, taking another sip of his sidecar.

“I can’t imagine. Poor Logan.” Camille shook her head. Growing up a child of divorce, Camille Turner-Styles never pictured herself getting married. She watched her parents fight, she watched them split, she rotated houses on the weekend every week for twelve years and was the carrier pigeon for her mother’s child support checks. She hated that when her mother started dating, she introduced Hank as her mother’s boyfriend. Something that was embarrassing to her when she was sixteen. Most of all, she always wished she and her mother had the same last name. 

Now they were watching little ten-year-old Logan go through the same thing as his parents got divorced.

“Let’s not dwell.” Harry insisted, “let’s go see how much I can touch on Leni before Niall turns red.” His lips pulled at the corners, giving him a faux sinister look.

“My god, why did I marry you?” Camille rolled her eyes, all but screaming as her husband nipped her sides with his fingers.

 _“So you could touch on me as much as you like.”_  
   
“Mia.” Harry said, “I like Mia.” He repeated, rubbing a hand across his wife’s feet. He rubbed a thumb over her bright blue toenails – a color he had picked out at the salon last week.

“I like Mia.” Camille agreed. “I like Luna, Mia, Rosie and Pippa.” She listed off. 

“Not Pippa.” Harry disagreed, shaking his head, sliding his hand up to his wife’s knee and rubbing it gently. “I love Luna.” He mused, “Luna Styles.”

“Luna Isabella Styles.” Camille replied, flipping a finger through the ends of her hair, knowing that while she got final say on first name, her husband got final say on middle name. He had his naming rights set on Isabella ever since they visited the Amalfi Coast and met a charming little girl in a gelato shop named Isabella. She and Harry instantly fell in love and they visited the shop each day for six days. “Your little flowerchild.” She teased.

“And for the boys?” Harry asked, glancing at the timer on his phone.

“I’m not as picky, but I do want my Daddy’s name for middle.” She said. “I knew I would do that since I was a little girl.”

“We have talked about boy names before.” Harry reminded. “I like Roman and Gunner.” He added.

“I do, too.” Camille nodded, “Roman Alexander.” She finished.

“I love it.” Harry said, gently rubbing up and down her calf, making goose bumps break out across her skin.

“I can’t wait to see you with a little boy.” Camille grinned. “I’m going to make you wear matching outfits all the time.”

“Can you imagine a little me with tiny boots and a little scarf?” Harry laughed, his dimples making an appearance. “I want to see a tiny Camille with your same little pout.” He insisted.

“I’m sure they’re going to pout either way.” Camille laughed, “well, maybe not. I can’t imagine you’re going to deny them anything they want.” She finished.

“I’m not a pushover.” Harry retaliated.

“Baby, please! You’re the biggest pushover on the face of the earth!” Camille laughed again, shaking her head. “All they’re going to have to do is look at you and you’re going to fold. Same thing I do now.”

Harry placed a hand on his chest, affronted.

“I’ll have you know, I’m quite stoic and steadfast.” He said, making his wife erupt into giggles. “They won’t get a single thing! In fact, they’ll have no things!” He declared. “Who needs food or clothes or toys! No child of mine!” His act caused his wife to nearly wet herself with laughter.

“Baby.” Camille laughed, gasping for air. “I can’t.” She tried to catch her breath.

“No nothing!” He finished with a flourish of his hand.

“You’re going to spoil them absolutely rotten, we’re going to have rotten children.” Camille reached over to her husband and twirled a finger through his ear-length curls. “All they’re going to have to do is flash their big eyes and little pout and you’re going to be putty in their hands.” She finished.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Harry conceded. “They won’t be rotten though, they’ll be good little eggs. You’re too good to have rotten babies.” He finished. “Besides, my Mum is the real threat here.” He added, leaning into his wife’s touch as she lightly ran her nails over his scalp.

“We have to decide which room is going to change into the nursery.” She said quietly.

“I assumed right next to our room.” Harry flicked his eyes over to Camille. “Is that wrong?”

“No, not at all,” Camille shook her head. “I mean, the baby’s going to end up in our room for the first like six months or so, I’d imagine.” She shrugged.

“Niall said he’d send over the number of the people that did Caleb’s nursery.” Harry reminded.

“I want to do the nursery ourselves.” Camille replied, “We can do just as good of a job and that way no one else has to come into the house and it’s more personal. I can do the painting, you can do the furniture.” She listed off. 

Harry gulped. 

“You don’t think you can do it?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow at her husband.

“’Course I can!” Harry puffed out his chest. “I can do manly things with tools and nails. I do it all the time, actually.” Camille rolled her eyes with a laugh.

“I’ll help you.” She insisted. “I built all my own furniture in college.” She finished.

“That’s my woman.” Harry grinned, “so rough and tumble.” Camille rolled her eyes, jumping slightly as the alarm on her phone chirped. They both dropped their hands from one another’s bodies and looked over at the iPhone on their coffee table and then to the test beside it.

“What do you think, my love? Should we look at it?” Harry asked, rubbing his hand up the front of her leg again.

“I’m nervous.” She sucked in a breath.

“You’re going to be the best Mummy.” Harry smiled. “Our children are going to fall in love with you.” He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her knee. Camille smiled, her husband’s words quelling the butterflies in her stomach momentarily.

“Okay, let’s look.” An enormous smile broke across his face, one that reminded her of the way he smiled when they danced together as newlyweds on their wedding day.

Harry silenced the alarm on his phone, reaching for the test and bringing it back to the sofa.

“Should I look?” He asked, his hands covering the test as he looked up at his wife. She nodded excitedly.

“We’re… not pregnant.”

 

[][][]

 

“Okay Lolly, Daddy’s going to be here soon, are you ready for tea with Nana?” Camille called up the stairs to her daughter.

“I’m coming!” She heard Luna call from her bedroom. Camille stirred her coffee around in her mug, watching as the creamer formed little clouds and dissipate. She caught her reflection in the mirror that hung over the kitchen sink, tousling her bangs and scanning over her outfit. A snug pair of black skinny jeans and one of her favorite sweaters kept her warm without showing off too much of her shape.

The bags under her eyes were puffy, but that was to be expected after a night of tears. Harry would notice right away.

The doorbell brought her out of her thoughts, and she slid her feet into her slippers beside the fridge as little footsteps hurried down the staircase.

“Daddy!” Luna giggled. It was still weird that he didn’t just let himself into his own home.

That would change, soon, though. Camille didn’t think she could stay in the beautiful home that had once housed their whole family and all of the memories that came with it. It was torture spending time there, which was something she found herself doing more and more each day.

“Hello my little lollipop!” An internal battle kept the mug of coffee in Camille’s hands, knowing she’d fidget otherwise. Rounding the corner, Harry smiled upon seeing his wife as Luna plopped herself down on the floor to slide on her little pink flats.

“Millie.” He greeted.

“Morning, Harry.” She sucked in a breath. “She’s got her backpack with a change of clothes and all that just in case.” She nodded to the little pink bag on the kitchen counter, happy to keep some space between she and her husband.

“Sounds good,” he nodded. 

A pregnant silence. 

“Do you have any plans for the day?” He asked, hating how the words sounded coming from his lips. Was he even allowed to ask these things anymore? How long until he wasn’t allowed to know what her day was like?

“Nothing too big,” Camille shook her head, a hand fluttering nervously over her stomach. “Working on a slide for Lionsgate and then some landscapers coming to take care of the backyard.” She commented, trying her best to keep the heat out of her voice.

The backyard was always a point of contention between them. Camille had no sense of direction when it came to plans and gardens and had no desire to house one.

Harry insisted upon one when they bought the house, assuring her he’d take care of the upkeep and maintenance. Which he did, for a few months, but the now overgrown, unattended greenery was an eyesore and made their yard unusable. 

Harry bit his tongue, wanting to offer to take care of the yard, but decided against it.

“So you’ll be here all day?” He asked.

What’s it to you?

“Yes, I’ll be around.” Camille confirmed.

“Would it be alright if I swung by after dropping Luna with my Mum?” He asked, sliding his hand into his pocket.

No, no, no, no, no, no. Chimed Camille’s internal monologue.

It was too new, too fresh. It hurt now to even look at him.

But she had to be an adult. She was a mother and she shared her daughter’s life with Harry. She had to be brave even when she didn’t feel it.

“I wouldn’t ask, but there’s some things we have to - ”

“That’s fine, come by.” She didn’t mean to cut him off, but she had had enough of his voice that morning. Harry nodded, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“’Kay, Daddy, I’m ready!” Luna called.

“Give Mummy a kiss, little love.” He brushed a hand over the top her head. “She’s going to miss you.” He encouraged. Luna hopped over to her mother, wrapping her arms around her legs and pressing her face into her hip.

“Goodbye, Mummy.” She mumbled. Camille set her coffee down and crouched to the floor.

“Be good for Daddy and Nana, okay?” Camille mussed her little girl’s bangs. “I will miss you so much!” She pressed a big kiss to Luna’s chubby little cheek. “You have Daddy call me if you need me, okay?” She asked, feeling an awful lump forming at the back of her throat.

“You can’t come with, Mumma?” Luna asked, twisting back and forth in her spot.

“Not today, baby.” Camille smiled sadly before kissing her again. “Have fun!” She forced enthusiasm. Luna hopped back over past her father and out the door.

“I’ll pop back ‘round one.” Harry said quietly, to which Camille nodded. Harry shuffled awkwardly before letting himself out, forcing down the habit to kiss his wife goodbye.

When the front door closed, Camille was left, once again, in silence.

Glancing at the clock, she only had a little over an hour before Harry said he’d be back. She figured he was just driving her out to Nana’s and back into the city.

First things first, she went back up to her bedroom and twisted her hair up into a topknot above her head. The maintenance crew would be here at two and she could work on her Lionsgate production until then.

Camille Turner-Styles loved her job. She got to work from home when she wanted and being creative was a requirement – something that always kept her mind busy. Cutting and splicing movie scenes for previews also let her get a little sneak peak at all of the latest blockbusters.

However, even after half an hour of working on a cut for a new romantic comedy, she couldn’t quiet the nagging in her mind.

Harry was right, they did have a lot to talk about, and it was slowly taking over her thoughts.

Thankfully, the buzz of her cell phone kept her from spiraling too much.

Hey girly, can we get lunch soon?

She was thankful for friends like Leni Horan who didn’t look at her sideways and wanted to spend time with her.

Yes please, as soon as possible. She replied.

__

__

How are you and Luna doing today?

Luna’s gone today…

Luna is with Harry…

Luna is spending the day with her father…

 _Luna is with her Nana…  
_ All of the options making her a little queasy, so she decided not to reply, tossing her phone down on the bed as the doorbell rang.

It was certainly too early to be the landscapers. 

“Do you want something to drink?” Camille asked as Harry entered the house for the second time that day.

“No, I’m good.” He shook his head. He was surprised when she led them over to the sitting room and not the family room where they always had their talks – big or little. He supposed he was a guest in the house, now.

“So.” Camille began. “What should we start with.” She crossed her legs, sitting back in the plush chair as Harry took a seat on the adjacent sofa. He admired her for a moment. She was still as beautiful as ever – not that he expected her to look any differently in the last six weeks since he moved out.

His hand folded past his knees as he leaned over his lap.

“Uh – couple things.” He exhaled. “First, I suppose, is a proposition.” He began. “My Mum’s friend… she’s a marriage counselor.” Camille eyed him stoically. “She’s too close to us, but she had recommended to me a colleague of hers.”

“You want to go to marriage counseling.” Camille deadpanned.

“Yeh.” Harry nodded, looking up at Camille. “I want to know if you’re willing to try with me.” He said quietly. “I don’t like this at all, Millie. I don’t want these things.” She could tell he was holding back. “I want to fix things.” It wasn’t the first time he had said it.

Camille composed her thoughts. It would be too easy to start crying and yelling.

“Will we also bring your girlfriend to counseling?” She asked. Harry scoffed with a shake of his head.

“Don’t be crude, I’m trying to be serious.” He bit out.

“I am being serious.” She ticked her jaw. “She’s part of our fucking life now.” She elaborated. Harry paled.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I mean, her picture is up next to mine on every magazine, Harry.” Camille spit out. She watched as Harry’s expression shifted to a little more relaxed. “Unless you know something I don’t.” She eyed him carefully. He was holding something in. “What is it, Harry? Has she been calling?” 

Harry was quiet by nature. He could be loud and rowdy and outgoing on any stage, run the show and lead the circus if need be, but his natural state was quiet. Even this was too quiet for him.

“Harry.” Camille warned.

“She… she says she’s pregnant.” Harry said quietly.

Camille flashed back six weeks.

_“I never fucked her Camille.” Harry shouted, tugging on her arm as she looked for the nearest escape route. “I swear to God, I never fucked her.”_

She stayed silent despite the fact that she could feel the coffee she had this morning threatening to push up against the back of her teeth.

“It’s not mine, obviously.” Harry followed up quickly.

“Obviously.” Camille surprised her husband with a laugh, her head tossing back against the chair as she looked up at her ceiling. “Wouldn’t that be a fucking laugh?” She asked, knowing she looked delusional. _“Harry Styles, cheats on wife, knocks up his mistress AND finds out later that his wife is pregnant?_ Wouldn’t that be a right fucking laugh?” Camille had lost it.

“She’s not my mistress – it was twice! And I – ” Harry cut himself off. “You’re pregnant?” His eyebrows shot up so high into his hairline they were practically on the back of his neck.

“Ten weeks.” Camille replied, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she counted ceiling tiles.

“Camille.” Harry gawped.

“How did I let my life get so fucking messy?” She asked herself out loud. “Twenty-seven, a mother, pregnant, getting divorced.” She listed off. “Thousands of miles away from home.”

“London is your home, Camille.” Harry couldn’t stop the words from leaving his mouth.

“It’s not.” She said sharply, snapping her attention to him. His skin prickled at the look on her face. “I came here for you.” She began. “I came here for you almost eight years ago. I was so in love with you I couldn’t see straight. I learned how to drive on the other side of the road, I built this house, I decorated it, I went to every red carpet, I flew a thousand flights across the world to visit you on tour, I married you, something I said I would never do after my parents divorce. I gave myself to you, I did everything you ever asked, I built a career for myself so I wasn’t that sad, pathetic girl who doesn’t have a life outside of her husband…” She trailed off, “and I had the most beautiful child in the world who means more to me than my own life. Half of me, half of you.” She felt the tears drip off of her chin down to leave little dark spots on her gray sweater.

Harry pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes – his own tears pooling atop his cheekbones.

“And look where it got me.” She laughed sadly. “Older, lonely as all hell, getting divorced and my husband asks me to see a marriage counselor in the same breath he tells me his mistress is pregnant.”

“I told you, Camille, she’s not my mistress and it’s not fucking mine!” Harry snapped.

“Do you want a fucking parade?” Camille asked, “would you like a gold star? A ribbon, for Harry Styles, whose awful wife took two years to get pregnant, but whose girlfriend got pregnant from a blowjob? Most fertile, Harry, congratulations!” She clapped.

“Camille, I can’t do this without you.” Harry pleaded. “I need you.”

“I’m leaving London, Harry.” She said for the first time out loud. “I’m taking Luna home.”


End file.
